


Are You Ready For Me?

by Keittheo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Consensual Underage Sex, Keith is 17, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Trans cerator(s), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 18:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20604983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keittheo/pseuds/Keittheo
Summary: Keith highkey pines for shiro.shiro is dumb.





	Are You Ready For Me?

**Author's Note:**

> My good friend @thorstbench helped me write this. Thanks adam, love u long time!

Shiro walks into his quarters after a long day, tossing his hat on the hook lazily and shrugging out of his uniform. The lights turn on.

And there sitting on Shiro's bed, grey Garrison uniform over his smaller frame, no pants on— is Keith.

Shiro chokes.

"K-Keith!" he stutters, "what are you doing in here?"

Keith hops off the bed, shoulder of the uniform slipping down and- oh god, he's not wearing a shirt. Shiro’s face heats up, cheeks red and puffed as keith walks in front of him.

"Just thought I’d come visit you,” Keith purrs. His hair is tousled more than usual, probably from changing into the uniform. "But you weren't home," he continues, standing in front of the taller man, "so I decided to try on your clothes."

Shiro swallows _ hard _. He’s still standing in the doorway, he realizes awkwardly as he takes a step in and hurries to close the door—what if someone passes by and sees Keith? "O-okay. Why?"

Keith huffs a sigh. "How about _ you _answer one of my questions?"

Shiro watches him flop the sleeve around when he walks back to Shiro's bed, which is all roughed up for some reason— Shiro tries to pretend he doesn’t know why.

Although he wants to _ confirm _ his suspicions. He inhales, anticipation sitting tight in the pit of his stomach. "Which is?"

Keith takes his time to speak, and he doesn’t say anything before stretching out and dropping on Shiro’s bed, showing off his long, smooth legs before gathering them under himself. He looks every bit of Shiro’s wet dreams right now, but Keith can’t know that—can he?

"How do I look?" Keith whispers on the end of the bed, uniform falling just below his knees, playing hide and seek with his milky white skin under the slit of the fabric. The uniform’s shoulder sits loose over keith's skinny small frame, emphasizing his small body and making Shiro’s navel tight with heat.

He shouldn't be thinking this way. He _ really _ shouldn’t.

An innocent, delicate, "Shiro?" snaps him back to reality.

Shiro blinks, cold sweat running down his spine. "Sorry, uh- yeah. It suits you, Keith." _ Keep cool, _ he reprimands to himself. "You'll- you’ll make a good commander one day," he wheezes. He really hopes that’s what Keith wants to know, because Shiro isn’t sure he can trust his lizard brain with any more information right now.

Keith smiles, sitting back on his butt and crossing his legs, not bothering to tuck the uniform over where his underwear would almost be exposed...

If he was wearing any. 

_Fuck_.

That’s it. Shiro needs to go. The only question is, where? This is his apartment, where else can he go?

"I'm— uh, gonna go wash up." Shiro deadpans, cringing at the stiffness in his tone.

Keith’s confidence falters, a slight frown forming on his gentle features, before Keith blinks it away. Instead, he leans back on his arm and pulls Shiro's datapad from the nightstand. "Okay, I’ll wait here," he smiles, tapping away on the screen, as if Shiro isn’t already gone away.

Shiro darts off to the bathroom as fast as possible.

-

Hearing the shower turn on, Keith shuffles back to where he had been earlier—he makes himself comfortable on Shiro’s bed, laying down and gathering the pillow under his legs, making sure he’s _ sitting _on it. He tries not to think about Shiro breathing in his scent as he sleeps-

It’s not like Keith’s wearing any underwear anyway— in hopes that Shiro would ravish him like a bear.

Unfortunately, Shiro didn’t—either because he hasn’t understood the situation, or because... well, it’s Shiro, and Shiro has (as Adam liked to quote) a ‘lesbian radar’ for flirt and romance.

Keith still likes to hope he’s had some effect on him, though.

Keith wants Shiro, and when Keith sets his mind on something, he’ll do everything he can to make it real. He may be only 17, and yeah, Shiro may leave for Kerberos in less than a month, right _ before _ keith's 18th birthday, and _ yeah, _ Shiro did just get out of a relationship- but so what? If there’s any chance Shiro will see Keith, he's gonna take it.

-

When Shiro exits the bathroom, after a _ lengthy _ shower, Keith is still tapping away on his datapad. Someone is speaking, too.

It’s Matt’s voice. “Bye, Kitten,” he hears Matt chirp.

"See ya," Keith shoots back with a snort, setting the datapad down.

That’s when Shiro steps into the room, arms raised to dry off his bangs.

Keith was video-chatting Matt, of course, they're friends.

Shiro shrugs off a pang of jealousy with a frown; he’s left his spare shirt inside his bedroom in his scurry off to the bathroom, and now he has to walk barefoot into the same room with Keith still looking like that?

Shiro curses the day his gay brain lost the ability to multitask as soon as he sees a pretty boy smiling at him.

"You were talking to Matt?" he asks, trying to sound as casual as he can.

Keith pretends he hasn’t heard Shiro approaching, turning and waving him. Shiro has to stay and stare as Keith stretches his legs out, as the uniform riding up his thighs higher and higher- _ fuck, _ too high. Fuck.

"He was looking for you, but you were taking a shower.”

Maybe Shiro deserves all the ‘dumb’s Matt shoots at him. "Oh."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence sets after that, and Shiro has to keep himself busy so he doesn’t stare a Keith’s legs. What was he looking for? Fuck, yes, his spare shirt.

He’s about to cross the room when Keith moves, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. Shiro pretends he hasn’t caught the round, plump curve of Keith’s ass.

Shiros gaze flickers down the expanse of keiths body the back up to his violet eyes—he finds them pointed right at him, pupils slightly widened; it’s so intense, Shiro can't take it

"Shiro.." Keith starts, pulling his body closer to Shiro’s.

"Y-yeah?" Shiro’s face is back to burning at full force in record time, the heat expanding from his cheeks up to the tips of his ears.

"Don’t you want to know why I’m _really_ wearing your uniform?" It's a breath, almost a whisper. Shiro deflates when Keith rests the flat of his palm on Shiro’s chest and presses forward. Now, Keith is as close as they can get without it being weird.

"I... yes."

Keith chuckles, and Shiro follows his eyes as they fall down on Shiro’s bare chest. "Promise you won’t laugh?" Keith’s expression changes when he asks, from sultry to vulnerable; it makes Shiro’s chest tight.

This question’s answer is a no-brainer. "Keith, I could never," he states with a heavy, husky tone.

Keith looks shy now, as he looks away and down, before gathering himself with a deep sigh and then exhale. "I wore it because... I wanted you- well," keith trails off.

"You wanted me to?" Shiro encourages with a whisper.

“I- I wanted you to think I'm sexy." The words are so quiet, Shiro has to repeat them in his mind to be sure he heard them correctly. That’s when Keith's head tilts back up, and Shiro can now see that his eyes are glossed over. “do you think I look good? In this?” he asks again, this... this real must mean a lot.

His heart swells. "Oh, Keith," comes out naturally as he dares to move his hands to (_finally_) touch Keith.

It’s something Shiro’s always wanted to do, but could never bring himself to—Keith’s always been unreachable, way out of Shiro’s league. This right now, though? It’s something sacred, other than unapproachable, something Shiro will cherish for the rest of his, albeit short, life.

Keith’s locks are soft when Shiro reaches for them, tangling his fingers between them before moving down to touch the crumpled uniform. His hand dwarfs Keith’s shoulder, and the loose uniform makes it even more obvious.

"Shiro," Keith breathes.

Shiros trails his hand lower, settling in the small of Keith’s back. He wants to call Keith back, he really does, but he can’t ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. "But.. why me? Why would you want me to think this?" he asks, cursing under himself when his voice wavers.

Keith wraps his free arm around his back, his other still firmly planted on his chest, his chin almost, too, when he has to look so far up to meet Shiro’s eyes. "Why not you?" he huffs, and Shiro can feel Keith’s warm breath on his skin. "Y-you're... Shiro, you're _ you _... and I’m just-"

Shiro doesn’t let him finish the thought. He’s not going to let Keith drag himself down any longer, not under his watch. "Keith. God. Of course you are. It’s just- you’re not _ just _sexy. You're so much more than that."

Keith pulls back, painfully away from his skin—Shiro already misses the wet, warm breath of Keith’s on his skin, the feeling of it. "I.. am?" he asks, uncertain, as if Shiro hasn’t just spilled his guts in front of him.

"Yes, Keith. You are-"

A knock on the door interrupts him, both of them jolting and snapping their heads towards the door. Keith scrambles away from him quickly, too quickly, jumping out of sight so Shiro can go answer the door.

Iverson. For fucks—

“Officer Iverson” he salutes, faking tiredness in his voice.

"Officer Shirogane,” Iverson’s eye peers into Shiro’s quarters from the other side of the hallway, “where’s Cadet Kogane?" he belts.

Shiro frowns. "Isn’t he in his room?" He knows it's not good to lie to Iverson, being wrong _ and _his superior officer, but Keith _has_ snuck into his room so many times it’s routine to cover for him.

Iverson’s eye thins out, suspicious and grumpy as always. "He better not have snuck out into the desert again or you'll be the one looking for him, Officer," his tone is stern, and Shiro nods before saluting him goodbye.

When he turns, he finds Keith tangled up in his clothes as he puts them on, his binder and pants still visible. What Shiro doesn’t expect is the hurried, "gotta go, can't get you in trouble again.”

Shiro steps forward. "Keith-"

Keith tosses his shirt over his head, putting his jacket on as he skiddles past Shiro and out of the door. He avoids Shiro’s eyes when he does. "Sorry Shiro, bye," and he’s off, darting into the opposite direction Iverson took.

Shiro watches him leave, and wonders where he fucked things up. He hits off the light switch and locks his door, turning to climb headfirst into his bed. It smells like Keith, he distantly thinks as he instinctively presses his nose into the soft fabric, and so does his pillow.

He wonders what Keith has done to leave such a strong scent as he drifts into a fitful sleep with the most awkward boner he's ever had.

-

Shiros day seems slower than usual, he's been sluggish ever since last night, of course, he knows he feels something for Keith, he knows keith is technically old enough to consent, and he knows there's something between them that's been unspoken for _so_ long that Shiro wouldn't even know how to initiate it; he’s not as brave as Keith.

Shiro rests his head on his fist, tapping his pen on the table while he waits for his students to finish their tests. Keith was supposed to be in this class today, front row, central seat, listening to Shiro’s lesson.

But he didn’t show up, and Shiro has to mark him as absent on the registry.

Now that the test has begun, Shiro can't help but phase his mind back to last night, playing the situation over and over again in his head while his students struggle over things Keith would’ve solved in record time—Shiro knows this, and he can’t help but scowl at the missed opportunity.

Still, his mind drifts again. He replays every detail for the upteenth time- did he say the wrong thing? Was it iverson? Did iverson have tabs on Keith to the point that Keith was actually afraid of him? Or did Shiro read the whole situation wrong? Was Keith just looking for validation before his operation? Was Shiro’s opinion so important at all, as a cis gay man? But it's never been brought up before.

The thoughts follow him through the busy hallways as he walks to his office, tests stacked into his arms as he tries to keep up with all the people who try to talk to him. Shiro doesn't hear them as he comes to a stop outside keith's quarters, and the only thing his brain can formulate is, _ this is not my office. _

Keith has specifically requested private quarters, and Shiro— being the nice person he is— had helped make it happen.

Shiros isn’t even sure he should knock, but he does so anyway.

There’s shuffling on the other side of the door; Keith’s in there for sure. Does he wants to answer, though? That’s not as sure.

The door’s lock clicks, and Shiro can barely see anything inside when Keith lets it open just enough to peek through. "Shiro?" Keith asks, a frown quickly forming on his face as he blinks.

"Keith," Shiro calls back, "you, uh, you weren't in class today."

A sigh. "Don’t feel well." Keith’s answer is curt, and takes Shiro aback. When Shiro doesn’t answer, Keith’s voice grows frustrated. “Is that all?” he fidgets.

Shiro’s shoulders slump down. "I... can we talk about last night?” Keith looks about to say no. Shiro steps forward. “Please?"

"What’s there to talk about?" Keith says quietly, but Shiro knows he’s breached through— enough for Keith to listen. This is his last chance.

"A lot.” He hooks his finger on the edge of Keith’s door. “Please, let me in."

Hesitating Keith shuts the door, more locks clicking, and then Shiro has to step back when the door opens fully in front of him. "Come in then,” Keith’s voice is quiet, and Shiro already wants to ease the worry floating in his tone.

The room is dark, Shiro notices as he steps into Keith’s quarters. Keith’s clothes are strewn all over the floor and Shiro can't help but feel the guilt climbing up his spine again. Keith crawls back onto his bed where he’s been all day, Shiro assumes by the crumpled sheets.

"So? What did you want to talk about?" Keith repeats.

Shiro sits on the corner of Keith’s bed, trying not to invade his personal space. "I wanted to apologise?"

Keith’s eyebrow raises. "really? or is it more of a question?"

Shiro smiles gently at the sass; that’s his Keith. "I did want to apologise,” he whispers, “I feel like I ruined things- somehow. Did I say something wrong?"

Keith's eyebrows furrow for a split second, before his expression softens. "Wait- you think you said something wrong?"

"Yeah,” Shiro shrugs, exhaling a tired laugh, “did I?"

"No, you idiot. You didn't. I- I wasn't... sure-"

When the silence stretches, Shiro decides he can push a bit more for an answer. "About?"

Keith huffs. "What was- going on? If Iverson hadn’t knocked on the door... Things might’ve..."

Shiro feels like the dumbest man on earth right now. "I'm um... not sure I follow, Keith."

Keith pushes himself forward, too fast and too sudden, it catches Shiro off-guard, but it gives Keith time to lean closer to him and sit on his knees, hands folded in his lap. "Shiro. Do you.. think I'm sexy? Do you think I’m attractive?" Keith's voice wavers, but Shiro can hear the mild confidence behind his words.

"Keith, I already told you-"

"No, Shiro," Keith repeats, “you told me what you thought _ I _ wanted to hear. Be honest.”

This is Shiro's moment, it's his moment to tell Keith how he feels, but Shiro can’t not fear that it’ll ruin what they have.

Still, he between that, and betraying Keith’s trust, he knows which option he prefers. "Yes,” he lets out, and it’s a weight eased off his chest. “Fuck, Keith, you are gorgeous, I want-"

Keith’s reaction is instantaneous. He hops off the bed, climbing onto Shiro's lap, plopping his weight down on his thighs and embracing his shoulders. Shiro swallows, heavily.

"You wanna?" Keith whispers, leaning closer. Shiro swears his mind plays tricks on him, because their lips must be touching, but they’re also _ not_. It drives him mad.

Shiro exhales hard and low, shivering under Keith’s fingers. "I wanna kiss you. God, I wanna do everything you'll allow me to do to you."

"Shiro-" keith almost whines. “Shiro you can kiss me, you don’t have to as-”

Shiro doesn't let him continue, he presses forward and seals their mouths together and breathes Keith’s scent in.

Shiro sighs into Keith’s mouth, and Keith shivers against him, raw heat that moves against his lips. They set a slow pace, and Shiro allows himself to breach Keith’s lips with his tongue.

The way Keith opens up for him, letting shiro run his tongue all on the inside of his mouth, though, is what gets him.

Keith is eager and uncharacteristically obedient as Shiro guides his hands around his neck; this way he can get a hold of Keith’s small back as best as he can, running up and down Keith’s spine, smoothing over his loose shirt.

After a bit, Shiro decides to pull back; he wants to check on Keith, but he also doesn’t want Keith to freak out and take the sudden halt the wrong way, so he rests his forehead against Keith’s. “Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” Keith breathes, tugging Shiro's shirt to pull him back in and against his lips. “God, Shiro.” Keith pants between kisses, gently grinding his pussy down on Shiro's stirring dick.

Shiro whines, pushing his hips up involuntarily, already at half chub, until he catches against Keith’s folds—even if layers of clothes _ promptly _ separate them.

“Fuck. you already feel so big,” Keith moans into his mouth, grinding down on him harder. His small hands run on the first button on Shiro’s uniform, pulling the fabric and popping it free. “Off. Take it off,” he demands.

Shiro pretends the order doesn’t make his knees weak. “Alright, baby,” he purrs, shrugging his way out of the jacket with a gasping keith still firmly planted on his lap. “Oh, you like that, do you?”

Keith's flush intensifies to Shiro’s delight. His voice stutters. “Shiro, just- take my shirt off too.”

Now it's Shiro's turn to blush. “Are you sure?”

Sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, Keith nods. “Yeah. Um... I want you to see all of me. D-do you want to?”

A shiver runs down Shiro's spine, heat pooling under his skin to the thought of spreading Keith out, fully naked, covering his lithe frame and worship all that Keith will let him. “Only if you're comfortable, Keith. I don't want you to force yourself.”

“I’ll tell you if it feels like I am, okay?” Keith promises, sliding his hands down Shiro’s pecs, tracing the line between his muscles, dangerously down to his happy trail, only stopping when he’s reached the belly button.

Shiro does the same, slowly so Keith has as much control on him as he can, and pulls the garment gently up. Keith helps him by lifting his arms as the fabrics is raised. Once it’s off, Shiro tries not to stare too much and fails miserably.

Over him, Keith shifts awkwardly over him, and Shiro knows the familiar twitch that comes when Keith tries with all himself not to cover his chest, not to shy away.

“Keith,” he whispers, “you’re so handsome, so cute. Perfect. You know that right?”

Keith's arms stay planted by his side; he’s letting Shiro look, so Shiro does. Sharp collarbones frame little, plump tits with dusty pink nipples, now perked up and ready to be teased by Shiro’s hungry lips. Keith’s frame is slender but elegant, his curves still noticeable once his clothes are off, but easily hidden any other time.

“So sexy,” Shiro lets out, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone. “God. I-”

“You can touch them.” Keith interjects. “It’s okay, I trust you,” when Shiro’s eyes search for a confirm in Keith’s, he finds painfully clear honesty. So Shiro does touch—he cups Keith’s small breasts with his hands, and whines when Keith writhes underneath, letting him squeeze and trace the shape of his nipples. Shiro knows his hands are calloused, but

Keith’s face tells him the sensation is anything but pleasant. Keith lets out a soft moan when Shiro comes forward, too, ghosting his lips over them.

“Sensitive?” Shiro whispers, knowing well Keith must feel his hot breath against the delicate skin.

Keith tries not to squirm. He nods. “Mmm... You can- can you lick them-”

Shiro doesn't miss a beat. He sticks his tongue out and _ licks, _with drive and intent, covering Keith’s skin in saliva and kisses. Only then does he close his mouth over it and sucks softly. Keith groans, jutting his hips forward over Shiro's hard cock, his cunt catching against the tip.

Keith's hands move, too, sloppy and uncertain, but Keith shuffles back to pop the buttons of Shiro’s pants with less patience than before. As soon as the pants open up, his hand dives right in to grip at Shiro’s length.

Shiro bucks, stopping so he won’t accidentally bite Keith. “Keith. Baby,” he heaves with a moan over Keith’s nipple, his other hand gently pinching the other.

“Feels so good,” Keith whispers back, grip tightening on Shiro's dick as he slowly, pumps his fist under the fabric.

His fingers are too small, too slender, they can’t even properly wrap around all of Shiro’s dick, but it doesn’t matter—Shiro meets every motion with a stuttering thrust, fucking up into Keith’s fist and teasing Keith’s nipple with all of his mouth.

When not even that is enough, Shiro reaches down and pulls his cock out of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he hears above him. When he pulls back, he finds Keith’s gaze fixated down between them. “You’re- wow…” Keith says, replacing Shiro’s hand with his once more.

Shiro tilts his head up and reaches for Keith’s jaw, cupping it and sliding his hands further up until he’s gripping the baby hairs on Keith’s neck and pulling him closer. “Baby, I wanna touch you. Can I touch you?”

Keith whines. “Yeah, yes. Please?”

Quickly, Shiro picks Keith up, spinning both of them around and dropping Keith on the bed and slotting himself between his long legs. When he moves to pull Keith’s shorts away, he notices the wet spot on Keith’s boxers. His mouth waters so fast, it’s ungodly.

Unable to resist, he tests his finger over the wet patch until Keith lets out a quiet moan. “You're so wet, baby. All because of me?”

Keith pants, eyes flicking down to Shiro, and then further down—to the point Shiro flushes too. “Yeah all because of you...” he hesitates, “Takashi.”

Shiro gasps, taken aback by the sudden change. Fuck.

Keith notices— of course he does— and a wicked smile crosses his lips. Shiro loves how smug he looks. “You like it, don’t you?” he purrs, stretching out just enough that his body arches, showing itself better for Shiro, “Takashi?” he echoes.

Shiro’s breath hitches. “Keith-”

But Keith doesn’t stop. “C’mon, Takashi. Take my boxers off. Please?”

Shiro fingers under the waistband of Keith’s boxers and _ yanks, _ pulling them away in one swift motion. He doesn’t dive right back between Keith’s legs only because Keith's cunt present itself like a dream under him; soaked and wet and- so fucking tight-looking.

“Like what you see, ‘Kashi?” Keith chimes, spreading his legs further— pulling his pussy lips apart with his own fingers, giving Shiro a full view of him in all his naked glory.

Shiro scrambles. Hastily, he runs the flat of his finger over Keith's swollen dick, massaginning it until Keith’s a moaning mess and his fingers are soaked in slick from it.

Keith is live wire under him, his legs spasming to grip around him but fighting the urge to. Shiro tries to stretch the moment as long as he can, but it’s too much, and too early he finds himself pushing one finger down and inside Keith’s soaked hole.

“Ah, _ fuck- _feels so good.” Keith whines, spreading his legs further apart, head lolling on the side.

“You know what feels better?” Shiro breaths, heavy and single-focused.

“What?” Keith retorts, and Shiro knows he’s only faking ignorance— and Keith knows it too, because he nods; quietly giving Shiro permission to go ahead.

Shiro wastes no time, crouching down between Keith’s legs and pushing his thighs further up and apart. Once he’s made himself comfortable, he prods the tip of his tongue against Keith’s throbbing cock. He licks its whole length, basking in Keith’s taste and heat.

Further up, Keith chokes out a moan, biting back louder ones as Shiro works his lips over his clit and sucks harshly. Each time, Shiro doubles his efforts to let Keith loose, one of his fingers coming up to push into Keith’s wet hole, fucking him slowly with it.

“Shit-” Keith hisses, clenching around Shiro’s finger.

Shiro pops off his clit and draws his finger back. “Hurts?”

“A little,” Keith replies, and Shiro is ready to pull out completely when Keith’s hand grabs his wrist tight and shoves him back between his folds. “I- I can take it!” he almost shouts, and Shiro wrinkles his nose.

“No, baby. If it hurts, we need lube and more playing before anything else.” He’s not about to bargain Keith’s pleasure for his own.

“Shiro. I can take it. I- I know my body.” Keith shifts uncomfortably on the bed until Shiro frees himself and rests his head against his inner thigh, kissing it lightly in hopes Keith calms down.

Shiro frowns. “Keith... We don’t have to keep going. Besides, we haven’t really talked properly.”

Keith gives him a look, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, Shiro, I’m not stopping. I like you, a lot, if that wasn’t obvious. Do you like me?”

“Yes. I like you a lot, too.” Shiro retorts, smiling when Keith rolls his eyes at the copy.

Keith pretends he’s not surprised by the statement. “G-good. Now let's keep going, please? I want you, I want you so bad.”

Shiro watches Keith's hand move down to stroke his clit, gently huffing a small whine. “God. Keith.” He _ knows _ that Keith’s evading the topic, but he won’t push it any further if Keith doesn’t want him to.

“Ah-” Keith moans, sliding his finger into his hole, and then another one, slowly stretching himself out. “S-shouldn't you be doing this?” he trembles, crooking his fingers, adding a third one.

Shiro shifts back, shaking his head. “I kinda like the show I’m getting. The hot guy I like fingering himself open in front of me? Yes, please,” he smirks, reaching down and pulling his pants off completely. He’s about to turn, reach for the lube he usually keep inside his nightstand, but remembers this is Keith’s room, not his.

Keith licks his lips, suppressing a shiver. “Top drawer,” he mutters, head falling back in a heavy sigh. “Hurry.”

Shiro opens the drawer and takes out the small bottle of lube. It’s almost empty- the thought goes straight to Shiro’s dick. He finds a condom, too, and that does not go to his dick. Shiro breathes in, deep, trying to ignore the possibilities of what it entails that Keith keeps condoms in his room. ”Why do you have these?” he asks, sitting back on the bed.

Keith flushes. “I thought- I wanted to be prepared. If I ever had a chance with you.” He’s stopped fingering himself, but Shiro isn’t of the same mind; he holds Keith’s hand and pushes it until Keith’s fingers sink completely into his hole with a long squelch. Keith shivers, red and flushed. And, y’know, being on T... I’m always horny so- I need lube.”

“Fuck.” Shiro groans, wrapping his hand around his leaking cock. He gets on his knees, watching as Keith grabs the lube, squeezes some in between his folds and pushes back into his pussy, scissoring himself gently.

“How many times have you done this thinking about me?” he asks, stroking his cock in time with Keith's fingers.

Keith’s fingers stutter, but Shiro forces him to keep going. “S-Shiro!”

“Mmhmm?” Shiro smirks.

Keith squirms. “You- can’t just ask that!”

“Seems like I can. In fact, I just did,” Shiro retaliates.

Frustration grows over Keith’s features, until he flushes hotter and hotter, turning away. “A lot, okay?” he mutters.

“You ever think about how good I’d fuck you?”

Keith gasps, then nods softly. “Mm.. Yeah.”

“Shit, Keith.” Shiro scoots forward, slotting himself between Keith’s smooth legs. Reaching down and drawing Keith’s fingers back. Gripping his cock, Shiro rubs the head over Keith’s dick and down his slick folds.

Keith groans, rutting his hips upwards and smearing Shiro’s precum all over is dick. “Shiro, I- I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure, please, Takashi, _ please,_” Keith whines, holding his folds parted for Shiro, hips bucking up and forward but never enough for Shiro’s dick to catch.

Grabbing Keith’s hand, Shrio takes Keith’s fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, before pulling them out of his mouth with a small pop.

Shiro reaches behind him, grabbing the condom he placed there earlier. Shiro watches Keith’s eyes, the growing hunger in them, follow his hands as he tears the foil wrapper, taking the condom out and rolling it over his cock.

Getting himself comfortable, Shrio leans forward and plants a kiss on Keith’s lips. Keith leans upwards and returns it, but his lubed up hand grasps Shrio’s cock and coats it with what’s left on his fingers and palm, both lube and slick. It makes Shiro’s head dizzy with need.

They don't break eye contact as Shiro slots himself between Keith's legs, as Keith keeps a hold of his cock so it stays in place when the tip catches against his swollen clit. Shiro drags it out, not caring anymore; he _ is _ staring now, he wants to see Keith's face, his body, all of it as his dick presses in and forward, past Keith's tight hole.

There's resistance, Keith's face wrinkles in discomfort but he keeps going, and Shiro eases himself slowly, _ so _ slowly it drives him mad, into Keith's heat. It's overwhelming, and they're both panting by the time Shiro is halfway.

"You okay?" he whispers, eyes scouting for any sign of pain on Keith's face.

Keith is flushed, eyes closed and brows knitted together, but he nods and breathes through it until his walls relax around Shiro. It's not much, but it allows him to push further in, rock his hips just so that Keith gasps, soft and sensitive, moaning his name like a prayer.

"That's it, baby," Shiro purrs, "let me take care of you. You're almost there." And, as he speaks, he thrusts in deeper, deeper, so much more, Keith keens and whines. Loudly.

"Shiro— _Takashi, _" Keith stutters and slurs. "Please—"

"Shh, almost there," he hums, unable to formulate anything further. Keith's tight heat engulfs him and takes his mind away with tension and liquid fire under his navel. He snaps his hips, and Keith shouts, begging and rambling until Shiro is firmly presses against his folds, pushing them both further up as if there is still room left for him.

Underneath, Keith is a shivering mess. Messy, wet pussy, and Shiro feels it throb and clench and relax. It drives him insane. "Keith, Keith I need- _ fuck_, I need to—"

"Yes yes _ yes, _ please Takashi, I can't wait anymore—"

Shiro interrupts them both. He snaps his hips back and forth, thrusting so hard Keith's whole body is shifted forward. Shiro has to hook his hands around Keith's shoulders so his body stays in place, and Shiro can fuck into him with as much powerful thrusts as he can.

When Keith screams again, Shiro reaches up quickly and clamps his hand over Keith’s mouth, “baby,” he moans into Keith’s ear, “don’t want us to get caught do you?” Still, he doesn’t slow down, and Keith almost bites his hand in the process of keeping quiet.

Keith shakes his head, hands gripping the sheets and eyes clamped shut. “Mmph,” Keith mumbles under Shiro’s hand. Keith chokes against Shiro’s hand with a muffled moan when Shiro’s dick hits that sweet bundle of nerves, his cunt tightening around him.

Shiro lets go of him enough so Keith can speak, but not so much that Shiro won’t be able to cover his mouth if needed. Shiro removing his hand to let him speak.

“Hnng- f-feels so good, _ Takashi.” _Keith pants. “So good, so good.”

Shro’s pace doesn’t falter, the sound of skin on skin echoes around the room together with Keith’s moans and Shiro’s grunts as he pounds into Keith’s cunt with precision and determination. His mind focused on one goal only; to make Keith come.

Keith’s hands run up the long planes of Shiro’s back, blunt nails digging into his flesh and scraping downward—Shiro loves it, encourages Keith to keep going, to mark his skin so that it stays. It’s a low purr, the feeling going right to his dick as he huffs a surprised moan when Keith does it again, harder this time.

“Fuck—” Keith hisses, repeating the action, making Shiro’s hips stutter.

Gritting his teeth, Shrio leans down, burying his face in Keith’s neck and digs his teeth into the ripe junction of Keith’s skin. Keith bucks and shouts when Shiro bites and sucks a dark mark onto his skin, where he knows Keith’s long silky hair will cover it—still, he stretches it just enough that the locks might _ accidentally _ uncover it, if Keith brushes it back.

Keith whines, his back arching, angling Shiro’s dick _ just right_. This way, he can fuck deeper into Keith’s cunt. “Keith,” he calls, his navel tight with tension and each thrust stuttering with it. The wet heat of Keith’s pussy makes it hard to hold back, to drag it out. “I’m close— I’m _ close,_” he breathes into Keith’s neck.

Keith clenches around his dick and Shiro curses. “Kashi- _ oh god,”_ Keith whines, “c-come. Come for me.”

Shiro can’t hide it the way Keith’s voice sends him over the edge. He comes hard with a harsh whine of Keith’s name on his lips, hips stuttering to a halt and pressing himself as deep as he can into Keith’s cunt, pushing Keith’s legs wider apart and pulling his shoulders down, locking Keith into place, riding his orgasm out.

“Fuck,” Shrio pants, sliding out—_ too early_—and hurrying down Keith’s body until he’s pressing his nose into Keith’s pussy and tasting Keith with his tongue. Keith bites back a loud gasp, but Shiro isn’t done. He sucks around Keith’s clit like a starved man, flicking the end with his tongue, enjoying the musky taste that is _ Keith_.

“Oh- oh, _ fuck_.” Keith’s hands trail down, grasping the black tuft of Shiro’s bangs and pulling them harshly, pressing Shiro’s face even closer to his swollen dick and smearing it all with his own slick and lube.

Reaching behind Keith’s thighs, Shiro shoves apart and as wide as they can get, popping off Keith’s clit to lick a hot stripe from his hole, before going back to Keith’s swollen dick. He swirling his tongue around it, then wraps his lips and _ sucks _, and Keith writhers with a gasp, fucking his hips upwards against Shiro’s tongue in response. “Kashi, Kashi- ah!”

Shrio slides his finger inside Keith’s needy and empty hole, fucking it shallowly as he focus all of himself on Keith’s clit.

“I’m— I’m close, so _close_. Please, fuck!, _please” _Keith whines, and Shrio’s eyes flicker up to watch when Keith’s face screws up as his orgasm washes over his whole body, when Keith tosses his head back, mouth agape with heavy breaths. Shiro basks in Keith’s moaning voice calling his name, in the way Keith’s hips stutter and his pussy tightens around his thick fingers, squirting harshly.

Keith has to push Shrio away when he doesn’t stop, borderlining to oversensitive, so Shrio climbs back up, not bothering to remove the condom yet. He finds a spot next to Keith, laying down by his side, sliding a hand under Keith’s shirt so he can mindlessly play and grope Keith’s chest. They’re both smiling, still high from their orgasms.

“Good?” Shiro hums, resting his head on Keith’s shoulder and breathing in.

“That- should be obvious,” Keith croaks back, voice rough and used up. He has to turn when Shiro pulls him in close and over his chest.

“Keith,” he calls, and he doesn’t need to check when Keith’s body tenses up. “We should talk. For real, I mean... Now that we have time.” The words sit bitter on Shiro’s tongue, and Keith’s tension doesn’t leave him, not even when the boy sighs against Shiro’s skin.

“The launch is in less than a month,” he sighs, uneasiness sitting deep in the pit of his stomach; he knows Keith has had his own issues to deal with when he learned of the mission. He knows Keith’s been setting them aside so he could support Shiro as best as he could—but it doesn’t change the fact that this, it all feels like Shiro’s abandoning Keith. Shiro can’t have that. “Two years... That’s a lot of t-”

“I’ll wait for you Shrio.” Keith’s voice is dead serious, his hands grip on Shiro’s waist and hold him close. “I have waited for a while now,” Shiro looks down, and finds Keith smiling— it’s soft, and reassuring. It fills Shiro’s heart so much, he’s not sure it’ll hold. “Besides, some old man taught me about patience,” he snorts, and Shiro snorts with him. “I can wait. I promise. Takashi.. I uh, I lo-”

Shrio leans in, because that’s too much, too soon. He kisses the words off Keith’s lips, because he’s going to end up saying it back if Keith keeps this up. “Save that for when I return?” he whispers once Keith has gone quiet. “I want it to be the first thing I hear when I come back to Earth.”

The silence is tense, Shiro almost fears he’s ruined the moment, but then Keith barks out a laugh and shoves him.

“God, you’re cheesy,’ he laughs, rough and husky—it sends shivers down Shiro’s spine. “But fine, as long as you already know that. And if you don't come back, I'm coming up there to find you and remind you." 

“I do. I will.” Shrio presses his forehead against Keith’s. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Scream at us on twitter: @Keittheo  
@thorstbench


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